


The End of The Line and Back Again

by blake17



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Emotions, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Hydra, M/M, Multi, Other, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Recovery, Slow Build, it'll happen eventually, talk about all the nasty things they did to Bucky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 04:18:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3836809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blake17/pseuds/blake17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unexpectedly Bucky reappears, on Steve's balcony of all places, after months of searching for him. Steve, Bucky, Sam and the rest of the Avengers have to work together to help Bucky get back to being who he once was, or at least, more then just the creature Hydra turned him into.<br/>*************<br/>Everyone besides Steve fell back as to not crowd the man who was still backed against the wall like a frightened animal. "You understand me, Buck?" He gave another small nod. "And," he began almost hesitantly, "You know who I am?" The question hung in the air for a long time as Bucky seemed to contemplate answering, face pinched with indecision but eventually his rough voice croaked through the silence.</p><p>"You're my friend."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm apologizing already for the tags. I'm probably going to keep adding tags as I go along (just so yall know) as each new heartache comes into my head. I've been feeling very Stucky-ish lately with all the Avengers: Age of Ultron hype going on so I thought I'd write some. Hopefully I can get another chapter out soon. Comment and kudos if you like it and even if you don't, constructive criticism is always welcomed. Thank you!  
> 

In the few months that Sam had known Steve Rogers he'd like to think that he'd gotten to know him fairly well. He knew, when it came to food, and just about everything else, Steve had very simple taste. He'd just as soon eat Sam's homemade casserole probably more then the stuff they served you at the five star restaurants Tony usually had them go to and that wasn't just because Sam was The Greatest Cook Ever (a title that Sam had given himself). Running was less of an exercise for him and more of a stress reliever. He enjoyed it because it cleared his head. You could tell how stressed he was by the way he ran, and if he was running hard enough, you knew he was heading to a gym to punch his way through a few dozen punching bags. Sam knew that Steve was a quiet guy, one of those cliché sensitive artists who could be content sitting in silence for hours at a time while doodling. He was the type to stop whatever he was doing an appreciate a sunset or stare at a single flower in an empty yard and smile. Sam had grown up hearing about the great Captain America, who hadn't, but he had always gotten the impression that Steve Rogers would be a perfect boy scout and he couldn't have been more wrong.

Despite Steve's quieter tendencies, he also had an annoying knack of being one of the snarkiest motherfuckers who've ever met, which is probably why him and Stark clash so much. He always had a comment for everything and it actually scared Sam at times because he knew that Steve didn't say half of the things he thought because of his puppy rescuing, walk grandma across the street morals. Those morals though, probably got him into more trouble then not. He couldn't go anywhere with Steve without him going up to someone to correct them on their behavior. Sam had actually never realized how many people said awful stuff so frequently until he began to hang out with Steve. Everything from kids getting picked on to women getting catcalled to all things racist and homophobic (the last of which honestly kind of surprised him considered he was from the 40's but never the less) was to be taken care of by Captain America himself.

Sam knew that Steve's favorite color was blue. Not the blue found on his uniform but rather a clear grey blue like the kind you'd see in the sky in the early morning. Steve wasn't too big on chocolate sweets, it all being so sugary and processed but was a huge fan of sour and gummy candies. He had seen Steve happy and smiling with all of the avengers like he didn't have a care in the world. He knew Steve still had nightmares and some nights woke up in a cold sweat and flashes of whatever war behind his eyes. He'd seen him after the Hydra attempted to take over SHIELD and practically the world, beaten to a pulp and half drowned. And yet, he'd never seen him like he was now.

****************************

They had been having dinner at Steve's apartment. He'd gotten a new one in Brooklyn after the incident with Fury. Sam was cooking his "World Famous Spaghetti" while Clint, Nat and Steve put on a movie. This was a rare get to together as Clint was rarely in time, especially at the same time as Natasha. This was only the second time Sam had met the archer and maybe the fifth with Nat after the Hydra fiasco. Sam came back into the living room from putting the noodles to boil to find everyone smiling and laughing. Clint had his legs thrown over the arm of the sofa and his head resting in Nat's lap. Steve was over in his own chair adjacent to them with a movie playing on the television already.

"So what movie did you guys decide on," Sam asked as he settled down next to Natasha on the sofa who rolled her eyes.

"Well Steve has that Disney fetish of his so he chose one from his hoard."

"Cinderella," Clint piped up from her lap.

"It's not a fetish," Steve protested, seeming faintly embarrassed by the accusation. "I just enjoy the artwork. And I think the stories are cute." Sam chuckled because Steve **did**  in fact have an unusual amount of cartoon movies for a grown man. Clint raised his arms and shrugged. 

"No judgment here, man." Steve grumbled and turned back towards the t.v. screen. They were only five minutes into the movie when everyone in the room besides Sam tensed. Within second they were all standing and looking towards the terrace. Nat had pulled a gun out from God knows where and they were all currently moving towards the blind covered doors. The door slid open and Nat raised her gun and a figure moved behind the large vertical blinds. Steve raised his hand, a motion to not shoot, as an arm came through, followed quickly by a person. A recognizable person despite the tattered clothes and rough appearance. Nat and Clint gave murmurs of shock and worry.

"Bucky," Steve whispered, low but filled with...hope? The man looked up at him, looked at all of them and retreated back a bit, afraid. His eyes flicked back and forth between everyone but stayed on Steve last. "Bucky, are you okay?" There was a pause before the man gave a soft nod. "It's okay," Steve told him, voice remaining low and calm. "You're safe here, no one is going to hurt you." As if suddenly remembering that she had a weapon, Nat quickly tucked the gun away. Everyone besides Steve fell back as to not crowd the man who was still backed against the wall like a frightened animal. "You understand me, Buck?" He gave another small nod. "And," he began almost hesitantly, "You know who I am?" The question hung in the air for a long time as Bucky seemed to contemplate answering, face pinched with indecision but eventually his rough voice croaked through the silence.

"You're my friend." That's when Steve makes the most pained noise Sam's ever heard a human make besides the atrocities he'd heard while overseas. It's quiet but it reverberates in the room and you can hear the distress dripping off Steve's next words.

"Can I... Will you let me touch you?" There's another almost unperceivable nod that Steve takes as confirmation to move closer. He's still slow about it and Bucky isn't exactly rushing towards him either but finally Steve's hand reaches the other man's shoulder and they're hugging. And it's one of those desperate hugs you see when someone comes back from military work, Sam's seen plenty of those. For a second he continues looking and he finds it nearly funny how Steve attempts to burrow his way into the crook of Bucky's neck and huddle into him like he isn't 6'2" and 230 lbs. Bucky was a little slower about returning the gesture, his eyes fiery with some emotion Sam couldn't place before he makes a broken sound and wraps his arms around Steve, face pressing into his shoulder. Sam turns away, feeling as if he's watching a private event and it as it happens, Natasha and Clint thought the same and were currently edging out towards the kitchen. Sam follows but Nat pauses by the doorway, eyes wary. Clint tugs her away after waving his hands in a few quick movements Sam knew to be sign language but didn't actually know the meaning of. Whatever it had been was enough to convince Nat, who sat with Clint at the kitchen table. The three of them looked at each other, all not exactly sure what to do. There were some soft murmurs coming from the living room that meant neither of them were dead, so that was good. Sam took a breath before turning to the stove.

"Food will be ready in a few minutes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please know that all these chapters are subject to editing at anytime, I'm indecisive like that. Thanks, again, I hope you've enjoyed it so far!  
> -blake17
> 
> Also, sidenote! I'm going to try to add some more to my older Star Trek stories which I haven't done in awhile, i feel awful about that by the way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay here's the second chapter of my Stucky fic. There's no stucky as of yet, but it'll happen. Hope you enjoy!

Steve was crying. Soft, muffled sobs emanating from him as he clung to Bucky desperately. Bucky made a few choked sounds as well, obviously very aware of the revelation of this event. The blond man whispered into the other man’s chest, muffled murmurs of “I thought you were dead” and “You’re back, you’re actually back”. There was a long moment before Steve was actually able to form coherent and stable sentences.

"Please tell me that you're okay," Steve hiccupped, finally pulling away from Bucky to look him over. All Bucky gave him was a nod, running his hand over his shoulder in a reassuring manner. Steve put his own hand over Bucky’s; hesitant to make it known that it was a common gesture of his often used to comfort Steve. Despite the soldier’s words though, Steve was not too keen to believe him.

“You’re filthy, Buck.” Bucky gave a tight grin, completely void of humor. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something but then quickly decided against it and remained silent. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He gave no reply but followed Steve nevertheless. Steve showed Bucky to the restroom and deposited him just inside the door. “Go ahead and get in. I’ll bring you some clean clothes.” Bucky grabbed at him as he turned away though, the fear that had first been in his eyes when he showed up was back again. 

“Don’t go.” The short, simple sentenced spoken with such desperation that it took Steve aback. “Don’t leave me, please.” Steve flinched at the pain in his voice.

“Don’t worry; I’m just going into the other room. I will be right back.” He kept his tone soft and steady, attempting to keep Bucky as calm as possible. “I’m going to grab you some clothes to change into.” It almost looked as if Bucky was going to refuse to let Steve go for a moment. 

“Swear?” The childishness frightened Steve. This man was Bucky, without a doubt. He could see it when it showed through the alarm in his eyes or the way he touched Steve, but the fear and reservation was not him at all. 

“Yeah, of course I do.” He released Steve’s arm and went into the restroom without any further reluctance. Steve quickly strode into his room and quickly grabbed anything he assumed would fit Bucky, which happened to be a plain grey t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that were set on his dresser. He caught his reflection in the mirror above the clothes. He looked ragged; his face red and inflamed from sniveling but also scrunched with worry. He let out a few shaky breaths before he felt strong enough to go back to Bucky. Nat standing there as apprehensive as Steve knew he looked stopped him short in the hallway, however.

“Are you sure about this?” Steve shook his head, not understanding.

“Am I sure about helping Bucky? Damn straight, I am. I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that he’s okay, that he’s safe and knows it.”

“He’s dangerous Steve. You don’t know what he has been through, what he has done. He is unpredictable. For all we know, he could snap back into assassin mode while you’re sleeping tonight.” Their voices remained subdued but as they went on, became more and more venomous. 

“He’s my friend, Natasha, my best friend. So if you honestly think I’m not going to help me, you obviously don’t know me very well.” She leaned close to him and poked his chest hard.

“I do know you Rogers. And I know you are stupid enough to do this and get yourself and probably Bucky killed in the process, because you are too stubborn to listen to me. The Winter Soldier-,” Steve cut her off before she could finish. 

“His name is Bucky. And if you are so opposed to what I am doing, you are free to leave.” Nat glowered at him viciously and without another word, stalked away. Steve glared after her, feeling terrible already but knew he had bigger things to worry about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Please comment and give me a kudos if you enjoyed it! I hope I can do a decent job on this story and provide some nice work for yall. Thanks again and I will try to update as soon as possible!  
> -blake17


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, third installment. Here we go. Enjoy!

Steve stood outside the bathroom door for a moment, listening as Natasha returned to the kitchen. Hawkeye spoke first. 

“How did-,” he was quickly cut off, irritation obvious in her voice. 

“We’re leaving Barton.” She was quick and clip about it. 

“Nat, what happened?” 

“Rogers says he doesn't need our help, so we don’t need to be here. Come on.” There was a heavy sigh that Steve recognized as Clint’s but there was movement followed by the echo of leaving footsteps. 

“But food-,” once again he was cut off by the slam of a door. The sudden silence if filled with the sounds of Sam grumbling to himself as he made his way over to the hallway. He peered down the corridor and eyed Steve cautiously. His face was earnest but the attempt to remain untroubled was there. 

“You’re good, right?” Steve gives a nod, and attempts to look exactly the opposite of how he feels, hopeful and steady. He bobbed his head with affirmation, not exactly looking convinced but willing to accept it. “Okay then. There will be plenty of food when you guys are ready. I came here for a movie so I’m going to watch my damn movie.” Steve laughed. 

“Sure, Sam,” Steve smiled at him. “Go ahead.” Sam went back into the kitchen, to finish cooking, he presumed, and Steve turned to face the bathroom entrance again. He took a deep breath and knocked. “Bucky, it’s me. May I come in?” There was no confirmation from the other side of the wood so Steve slowly creaked the door open to go through. He halted as he saw the soiled clothes thrown into the corner covered in a lot more filth then he had originally thought and then Bucky himself, naked and covered with an equal amount of grime. The water wasn’t on. He was simply sitting in the tub with his legs pulled up to where he could rest his chin on his knees and wrap his arms around them. 

“I brought you some clean clothes,” Steve mumbled lamely, putting them on the counter and walking over to the tub. Bucky showed no signal of acknowledging him. His eyes stared straight ahead, obviously not really seeing the white tile on the wall but something more. “You okay there, Buck?” He kneeled by the bath and when there was still no response he gently reached out towards him. “Bucky?” The moment his fingers touched his skin, Bucky recoiled as if he had been struck. Steve quickly pulled his arm back but the dark haired man looked at him now and smiled a broken reflection of the man he knew. 

“Steve,” Bucky said almost in wonder. He had seen the exact same smile the night he had rescued him from Hydra… the first time. Rogers could have cried in that moment because it was such a Bucky-like expression. 

“Yeah, it’s me Buck.” Steve grinned back and kept his voice as gentle as possible. He reached out to move a strand of hair from Bucky’s face and he flinched again so Steve pulled his hand back to set it on the edge of the tub. 

“You came back, Stevie.” His voice was so light, almost childlike again and it terrified Steve. This was nothing like the man he knew; the man would smirked at everyone and practically oozed charisma and confidence. “I knew you would. I told them.” The smile faded from his face and his tone grew pitched with unease. “They said you had died though and you weren’t coming back for me.” There was a pause, then he looked Steve directly in the eyes and the smile was back. “But you did.” 

“Don’t be stupid, you knew I would.” Steve grinned and he hoped that Bucky wouldn’t notice the tears that were threatening to fall from his eyes. “You should get cleaned up. I’ll wait out-,” Once again Bucky spoke out against Steve trying to depart. 

“No, don’t leave again.” He couldn’t refuse the distress in his voice. 

“Okay. I’ll stay. I’m just going to sit over here. You go ahead and shower.” Steve moved to sit on the closed toilet lid. Bucky eyed him doubtfully, as if any second he thought Steve might bolt but he did stand and turned the water on. He closed the curtain just enough so that the water wasn’t splashing out but besides that, Bucky didn’t seem to care about his state of undress. He shouldn’t, Steve had seen him naked plenty of times but it still bugged him how nonchalant he was about it. He kept glancing up to look at the hazy man behind the screen, not entirely sure that this was real. His eyes kept focusing on the metallic glint of his left arm, hidden on the other side of his body for the most part. Finally, Bucky shut off the water and he stepped out of the shower, taking the towel, Steve began to hand him. Bucky was a lot more muscular then he was before but he looked gaunt somehow now, as if he had eaten little for a long time now. Scars littered his body, spotty in some areas and crisscrossing in others. The scar at the seam where his should met the metal of the false limb made Steve cringe. It looked ragged and thick, nearly painful even after all this time. Bucky dried off, dressed quickly, and then looked at Steve expectantly. Again, Steve was hit with the contrast of this Bucky to his own and it made his chest ache. He led him to the kitchen, wary to stay close but not touch, where Sam had set out a couple of bowls of food. 

“You should eat.” Steve was met with a blank stare but he managed to coax Bucky into eating some of the pasta. There was silence for a long time cut with only the sounds of utensils against ceramic and swallowing. At some point Sam appeared at the entrance of the kitchen and Bucky stilled besides him. “Hey, calm down, Bucky it’s okay.” He looked up to Sam hovered by the little walk by the front door. He stood to go and talk with him but turned back to the man still seated at the table to tell him to “Don’t move”. 

“I trust you with this Steve, but what exactly is your plan,” Sam asked in a quiet voice. 

“Honestly, I’m not sure.” Sam didn’t like the sound of that and he took an exasperated breath. 

“I don’t know why I put up with this bullshit,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “You have to get him checked out by some doctors. Take him to Bruce and Stark, at least.” Steve nodded, understanding why that was necessary. 

“I will. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” Sam laughed. 

“I’m not worried about you. It’s your shiny friend I’m worried about.” He sighed and moved towards the door. “Good night, Man without a plan.” Steve chuckled. 

“Good one.” 

“Was it? I felt like it was kind of forced.” 

“Nah, you’re good. Sounded very natural.” They chuckled and exchanged some proper farewells before Steve went to the kitchen. Bucky was nowhere to be seen, their bowls of spaghetti sitting alone at the table. Panic rushed through Steve as he called out Bucky’s name and searched through the apartment. He found Bucky in his bedroom, staring at some papers scattered on his desk.

"Bucky," he asked as he walked over to stand behind him. He was staring at a drawing Steve had done awhile back, of Bucky back in 1943. He was leaning against an imaginary wall, his head thrown back with laughter. He moved it to look at another drawing behind it, Bucky standing with a group of people, a woman, two girls and a boy: the Barnes family. Bucky's fingers skimmed over the page, gliding over the faces of his lost family members but never actually touching the paper. He pushed it aside to look at the next drawing. This one was only half done, with Bucky fully fleshed out, all casual with his trademark smirk, his arm around the shoulder of an outlined man. 

"That's us," Bucky muttered in a gravely voice. Steve nodded. "You know who I'm supposed to be." 

"Buck," Steve started but the brunette whipped his head up to stare at him intently. 

"I'm not the man you remember. I'm not your friend. I don't even think I'm human anymore." 

"Don't say that. Of course you are." 

"You don't know the things I've done. " 

"I have a pretty good idea. I've read all the files Hyrda had about you. I know what they MADE you do. You never had a choice in the matter." 

"I let them make me forget." 

"No you didn't," Steve told me, getting agitated. "They're the ones to blame for what happened to you. They took your choices away, they took everything from you. You never let them or gave them anything, Bucky." Bucky didn't look too sure and he hesitated before continuing.

"I want to be Bucky again. I want to be your friend." Steve stared at him, not sure how to proceed. 

"You are my friend," he said finally. "You ARE Bucky, you just have to remember that." 

"Sometimes, I forget I'm not the asset anymore. I might hurt you." Steve gave him a tight smile. 

"I can take care of myself, Buck." The words rang familiar and the ache in Steve's chest throbbed. "I'm going to do everything I can to help you, okay. I'm going to stick through this with you. Remember, I'm with you-," 

"Till the end of the line," Bucky finished hollowly with a grimace. He stared into Steve's eyes, searching for an answer as to how to proceed, knowing exactly what he'd said. 

"Yeah, till the end of the line."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope yall liked it. You don't even know how many times this got rewriitten. Anyways. This will probably be the only chapter upload this week because I have a STAAR and two AP tests. God help me. But please, kudos and comment if you like it! I'll even be up to some ideas about where I should take this because the ending of this story is still up in the air.  
> -blake17


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay here's a quick chapter from Sam's pov. Enjoy!

Sam trusted Steve, of course he did. You couldn't work side by side with a man in the conditions that they did if you did not trust him with your life completely. But Steve, despite every good quality he possessed, was chucked full of bad ones as well, like continuing to maintain his wardrobe as if he was still in the 1940's and having the tendency to have no self preservation what so ever. Normally, with something involving Steve, he might call up Natasha but in this case, with her already salty on the subject, he called his second choice, Bruce Banner. Ironically, Banner was probably the only team mate to always maintain a calm head about things, unless of course the other guy showed up then you just had a giant green wrecking ball. It was already late but he knew he and Tony had a habit of not sleeping for days when Pepper wasn't in for science-y stuff. In that was probably Bruce's largest flaw, easily influenced by Tony Stark's bad behavior. Sam's foot bounced rapidly as he hit the call button. The phone rang four times and half way through the fifth ring, a voice answered on the other end.

  
"Hello?" Sam's foot slowed as he heard a loud crash in the background and then some shuffling.

  
"Dr. Banner, it's Sam Wilson." The clatter and voice in the background faded away as, Sam assumed, Bruce stepped into another room.

  
"Sam, hi. I doubt you just called to chat." And there was that knowing voice that the Doctor used when he cut straight to it.

  
"Yeah. It's about Steve."

  
"Is he okay?" Concern immediately coloring his tone.

  
"Yeah, I just left his house and he was in one piece."

  
"I would hope so." Sam grinned at the dry humor.

  
"Well, Stark isn't there right, he can't hear me."

  
"JARVIS," Bruce spoke out, "Can you make sure that Tony can't hear my conversation or tap into my phone at anytime?"

  
"Of course, Dr. Banner," Sam heard the faint reply of the AI.

  
"Okay," he said speaking back into the phone. "It's just me."

  
"Nat, Clint and I were at Steve's for a movie and we were interrupted by a visitor. The Winter Soldier to be exact." There was a small surprised noise on the other end.

  
"Was there a scene?"

"No."

"How did Steve take it," Bruce asked, voice dipping into the graver spectrum.

  
"He took it as great as any guy would if his best friend who died 70 years ago but not really because he was actually being manipulated into a weapon by Nazis and who he only found out was alive and had spend over a year searching for suddenly appeared on his balcony."

  
"That bad, huh?"

  
"He made it seem like it wasn't a big deal but I've never seen him like that, Bruce. I mean he was happy, they hugged and cried and everything, but he just looked so... raw."

  
"I would expect nothing less then a major reaction on both their parts."

  
"It was more than that. He handled Barnes as if the Winter Soldier was a fragile piece of glass but, to me, he looked like anything could have broken him."

"I've only known Steve for a few years, which is just as long as most other members of the team but I've only heard him speak about Bucky a hand full of times and when he does, you can tell how much he cares for him. This is a big deal." Sam agreed. With all their time searching, Bucky was still a sore spot, a completely understandable sore spot though.

  
"Would you mind going over to check him out?"

  
"I'm no psychiatrist."

  
"Do you know one?" Bruce seemed to contemplate this for a moment.

  
"I do. I'll make some calls, see what i can do." There was a pause. "Is Steve okay with this?"

  
"I haven't really asked him yet, but I'll work it out. He asked if I trust him and I do. I just want to make sure Steve's own trust is not placed in the wrong hands." Sam heard the empty unease on Bruce's end. He wasn't a fan of doing things behind people's backs but if he knew it would probably help he was willing. "And no telling Stark."

"Agreed. I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

"Thank you, Bruce."

"No problem, Sam." He ended the call and tossed his phone to the other side of his bed and sighed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updates. I had a STAAR and three AP tests, I failed at least one of them. Physics. Anyways there's only two weeks left and I only really have my pre cal final to do so I'm basically free. Hope you enjoyed the chapter and there will be another up soon.  
> -blake17


	5. Chapter 5

Steve woke up to the sound of soft breathing. For a moment he was confused because he wasn't in his bed but rather just laid out on top of it and then the previous day flooded his mind. He opened his eyes and saw Bucky sitting in the corner of his room holding a large knife, sound sleep against the wall. He shifted to sit up and Bucky immediately woke up, eyes flashing around for a threat. 

"Hey," Steve spoke softly. "It's just me, relax." And he seemed to, at least as much as he was capable. Bucky loosened his grip on the knife and settled back into the corner. Steve looked at his clock which only read 5:53 A.M. "It's still early. You can go back to sleep." There was no reply and no real acknowledgement that Bucky even heard Steve speak. "Are you sure you don't want to sleep in the guest bed or even mine. I wouldn't mind." Bucky looked Steve up and down Eyes void of any emotion that Steve could make out before his hand flexed around the handle of his weapon and he pressed himself further into the corner. Steve frowned but knew he couldn't force him to sleep in a bed. "Well I'm not going to be able to get back to sleep. Are you hungry? I can make some breakfast." There was a tiny motion that Steve took for a shrug. Steve nodded to himself and headed for the kitchen. He doesn't see Bucky stare after him as he leaves the room.

Something simple would be best, he decided. Eggs? Simplest thing he can think of at the moment and it seemed like a decent enough plan. It only takes him a few minutes to scramble maybe too many eggs and toast half a loaf of bread so when he walks back to his room to get Bucky, he's surprised to see his friend curled up on his bed asleep. Bucky's face is smooth and peaceful like this and Steve can't help the little smile that tugs on his lips. He tries his best to not make a sound and makes his way back to the living room where he gets comfortable on the couch, still grinning about Bucky. He doesn't really take notice of his eyes getting heavy.

**********************************

This time when Steve wakes up it's to the sound of chewing. He untangles himself from the blanket, which he did not have before he had fallen asleep and sits up. Bucky it sitting on the floor in front of him eating at the coffee table. He's scooping egg up with the toast and shoveling it into his mouth at a speed which, if he hadn't been aware of Bucky's previous eating habits he might be concerned. But he's not because it's old news that Bucky never truly learned good table manners.

According to his phone, Steve's nap lasted a little over two hours and he received a total of six text messages from Sam as well as two missed calls. Steve pushes the blanket off to the side and stands. 

 

"Slow down, Buck. You'll get sick," he tells the man who does stop shoving eggs into his mouth. "I'm going to step into the other room really quick." He hesitates when he notices Bucky staring at him and realizes that he might have been sitting there for two hours doing nothing before he decided to eat. "Do you want me to put a movie in?" Bucky just looks at him blankly. "Right, okay. I'm going to restart Cinderella. You'll like it." Steve turns the T.V. and DVD player back on and let it run. He's read the messages he received from earlier as he walks down the hall. Once he reaches his room, he looks back down the hall to see Bucky staring up at the television screen, doing nothing of concern before turning his attention back to his messages.

 

 

>  
> 
> [message received 1:56 A.M.
> 
> Sam:
> 
> _hey steve I talked to banner not too long ago about your buddy and hes on board to try to help him_

 

 

> [message received 1:57 A.M.]

>  
> 
> Sam:

 

> _sorry about not asking you first but I figured you had your hands full at the moment. speaking of which id better be getting a full version of your guys story later on_

 

 

> [message received 1:59 A.M]

>  
> 
> Sam:

 

> _Im not one to pry...xp but I totally need to know details about this bucky character. you never told me much about him despite having me RUN AROUND HALF THE WORLD LOOKING FOR HIM so I figured that soon would be a good time_

 

 

> [message received 2:00 A.M.]

 

> Sam:
> 
> _sorry about blowing up your phone. ill tell you if banner manages anything soon. night._

 

Steve chuckles at Sam's messages despite himself. Sam wasn't wrong about Steve not having told him hardly anything about Bucky. He hadn't told anybody much about him actually. Most of the information that they knew was just the stuff Natasha and dug out of SHIELDS (Hydra's) database and released to the public. There rest were thing that were displayed in the Smithsonian, most of which had been common knowledge because of the sheer popularity Steve had had previously. Anything else was mostly rumors or just assumptions made on their parts. The people who probably knew the most about Bucky were Natasha, for obvious reason, having been trained by the same people and meeting a couple of times and Tony. Where Nat knew how the Winter Solider operated and fought, Tony had grown up on stories about Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. Tony heard all of Howard's stories about them, most of which Steve wasn't actually sure what Tony did and didn't know. Maybe Howard had told Tony everything he knew, maybe Steve and Bucky had only featured minor parts as Howard told Tony about how he had helped defeat the Nazis. The later was honestly probably the most likely.

 

Steve glanced down the hallway again and Bucky was still seated so he continued with the rest of his missed notifications.

 

 

 

> [message received 6:04 A.M]

> Sam:
> 
>   _hey man, wanna go out for a run?_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [message received 6:07 A.M.]
> 
> Sam:
> 
> _I actually totally forgot about barnes, youre probably busy._

 

Steve clicked on his voice mails the first of which was from Bruce and had been made at 7:42 that morning.

 

"Morning Steve," Bruce's voice came through the speaker with a certain tightness Steve felt that he constantly had. "I don't know if Sam told you that he told me about Barnes, but he did." Steve smiled at Bruce's blatant disregard about possibly keeping Sam from getting in trouble. "I'm happy he did though because Barnes will need help. I've contacted a good friend of mine who has worked with people who've had, lets say, similar experiences with Barnes. She's the best at what she does. I'm not saying you have to agree but as a doctor and as your friend, I highly recommend it. She'll be in town Monday and if you do agree to do this, we can discuss when and where this can happen. Take care of yourself and please get back to me, bye." 

 

The call ended with a click and then the next one began, having been made only ten minutes after the previous one.

 

"Hey, man," Sam always seemed as happy on the phone as he did in real life. "Banner just told me that his therapist friend is going to be in NY tomorrow and you should totally have Barnes talk to her. I know you probably aren't big on the idea but she can probably help him a lot more than you and i can. Sleep on it and get back to me when you can. See you when i see you."

 

Steve was contemplating calling them back, though he wasn't exactly sure what he was going to say. He couldn't just say that things were fine, because they weren't and he couldn't say that he could handle this whole situation by himself because even he knew that was a lie. He was about to push the little green button on his phone when he heard a crash from the other room and sprinted down the hall. He turned into the restroom as he heard gagging followed quickly by the very recognizable sound of someone vomiting. Sure enough Bucky was crouched over the toilet emptying his stomach of all the breakfast he'd just stuffed in there.

 

"Bucky," Steve muttered quickly in warning, so he wouldn't be surprised by his presence. "It's just me." He knelt next to him to pull Bucky's hair back away from his face and despite the flinch, Bucky allowed him. He let out a small groan before gagging and letting loose another burst of vomit. Steve held back Bucky's hair with one hand while the other one more to rub gently across his back, in hope of helping him relax. "You're okay," he murmured softly. "I gotcha." Eventually he spit out the last of the bile and he pulled away to sit back against the tub, face pale but flustered. Steve leaned against the counter and stared across to Bucky as he stared right back. "You okay, Buck?" There was only a slight nod in response. "I told you that you'd get sick," Steve said with a tight smile, desperately trying to make Bucky respond but he didn't even acknowledge that Steve had spoken.  "Why don't you brush your teeth and I'll go and get you a drink. Okay?" The other man stood so Steve took that as positive feedback.

 

He walked into the kitchen and pulled a ginger ale out of the fridge. He was on his way back to the restroom when he caught the bathroom's mirror reflection halfway through the living room. Bucky was standing in front of the sink with his head bowed, eyes almost painfully clenched shut and his hands balled into tight fists on the counter. He looked angry, he looked frustrated. After a moment most of the tension left his body and he opened his eyes to look at himself in the mirror and Steve saw the fear and desperation in his eyes and he had to turn away. He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and sent a quick message before continuing to attend to Bucky.

 

> [message sent 9:14 A.M.]
> 
> To Sam:
> 
> _You're right. tell bruce i'm on board and update me when you can_

 

It was only a moment later when Steve had settled Bucky onto the couch in the living room and sipping on his drink that he felt his pocket vibrate.

 

 

> [message received 9:15 A.M.]
> 
> Sam:
> 
> _i got you brother. itll all work out_

 

Steve stared at the message for a long time then glanced over to Bucky who, instead of watching the television screen which was still playing, was looking down intently at his soda can, eyes achingly blank. He really hoped that Sam was right.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the update and please leave kudos and comments!  
> -blake17


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, for such a long break in between chapters and for it being a short one too.

For Steve, nothing could be as bad as that first month. For the first two weeks Steve was fairly sure that Bucky didn’t sleep. Rather, he just stalked around the apartment at all hours of the night. More then once Steve woke to find Bucky sitting in the corner of his room or in some other random place, silent and unmoving. It was the fifth night that Steve found Bucky on the couch, staring blanking at the black television screen.

“Couldn’t sleep.” It’s not a question but Bucky looks up at Steve and gives a nod.

“When was the last time you got a good night’s rest?”

“I can’t remember,” Bucky muttered, looking straight ahead. Steve internally hits himself over the head. “You have to sleep, Buck.”

“I can’t.” It’s said with no malice, no pain, no emotion.

“Why not?” The silence stretches through the room and Steve's about to ask again when Bucky gives his quiet answer.

"I'm afraid."

"Buck," Steve says with ..."You don't have to be afraid. I know that I can never really know what you've been through but they are never going to get to you again, you-," Bucky cuts him off with a sharp shake of his head.

"No, not HYDRA," he spits the title. "They can't do anything to me that they haven't already done." Steve grimaces at that.

"Then what is it?" There's another long pause and Bucky seems to be contemplating answering.

"Me."

"I don't understand," Steve admits after a moment.

"They made me into a murdering machine," he tells Steve bitterly. The words start to rush from his mouth like water from a broken dam. "I still fall back into that mindset. I see someone and the first thing that pops into my mind is all the ways I can incapacitate them. The Winter Soldier had one job and that was to kill the enemies that HYDRA gave him. Sometimes I wake up and I still think that HYDRA wants me to kill someone.I don't know if I'll be able to stop myself from hurting somebody if that happens." He looks at Steve for the first time since he began his rant.

"I don't want to hurt you." Steve eyes Bucky in all serious before breaking into a small smile.

"I trust you Buck," he says gently but Bucky groans.

"No, you don't understand. I can't control it. I wouldn't be able to stop no matter how much I wanted to."

"You have before," Steve points out. "And I know you would never want to hurt me. That’s enough. There's not much that we can do besides try to get you better. You should know I wouldn't give up on you so easily," Steve grins at him.

"You shouldn't have to go through this," Bucky grumbles.

"You used to take care of me so now I'm just repaying the favor," he says simply and Bucky glowers at him.

"You had colds. There wasn't a big chance of you murdering me in my sleep." Steve chuckles.

"Are you saying our friendship has conditions?"

"You know what I"m saying, Punk." Bucky finds himself grinning back. Him and Steve smile at each other, Bucky wistfully and Steve hopeful.

"Come on," Steve says after an instant. "You have to sleep and so do I." He grabs Bucky's hand and drags him off the sofa.

"Where are we going?"

"My bedroom," Steve says as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"Woah," Bucky pulls his hand free and stops in his tracks. "I just said how I might kill you in my sleep so you want to take me to your bedroom to sleep? Are you out of your mind?"

"Only if it's crazy to ask you to trust me." Steve raises a brow, a dare. Bucky has no other choice then to follow Steve back to the room. "Come on," he says as he climbs into his bed, "Just like when we were kids." Bucky stares at the bed for a long moment before following suit and lays on his side, facing Steve. His friend grins at him before snuggling close to his chest. Bucky pulls back quickly, though and Steve is left in the center of the bed.

"I don't know if I'm as trusting as you are about my metal arm being around you while I sleep." 

"Okay, then we'll just sleep with your back to my chest." Bucky nods.

"I can do that." He flips around and gets comfortable on his pillow before he feels Steve press up against him and his arms wrap around him.

"Good," Steve asks from behind him and Bucky nods.

"Yeah." Steve nuzzles in Bucky's neck and flexes his arms briefly around him. Bucky relaxes into Steve's touch and for the first time in a long time, is mollified enough to find his eyes drooping shut. "I really missed you, Buck," Steve whispers.

"I missed you too, Stevie," he sighs back. "Even when I didn't know who you were, I knew I was missing something." There's a long moment filled with only the sound of Steve's soft breath in the other man's ear until he whispered again.

"G'night, Bucky." Bucky is muttering his response when his eyes slip shut from the last time.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try my best to have another update up within a week. This story is probably going to wrap up rather quickly as I have a much darker storyline in mind that just doesn't go with this narrative. Hope you enjoyed!  
> -blake17


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im so sorry this took very nearly a year. Im out of high school, and even though im going to be working and getting set for college, i believe i can post a few more within the summer.  
> \- blake17

Therapy sessions are once a week on Tuesday's. The therapist's name is Ms. Karen Marshall. She was older, well into her fifties with greying brown hair and a tired but warming smile. There was little Steve knew about her besides that she was an old friend of Bruce's but his recommendation was enough.

The first session was the day after Bucky had slept in Steve's bed for the first time and there was little said. Steve was allowed to stay and watch, for that sessions at least. They were sat in the living room, her in the single chair and bucky in the middle of the couch. She asked a few questions and chatted a bit (mostly one-sided) in an attempt to break the ice.

"Would you prefer I call you James or Bucky?"

"Bucky," he replied simply. She smiled. 

"Thats a rather uncommon name. May I ask why you go by it?"

"Its a nickname from when i was a kid. My little sister couldn't say my middle name, Buchanan."

"That's quite sweet." she hummed, seeming genuine pleased by the story. She opened a little writing pad and set it on her lap. "Okay, so Bruce told me as much as he knew about your situation, which granted, wasn't much but it was enough to get me here. I'm gonna ask your side of the events. And we can start off with small things, whatever your comfortable with." Steve saw Bucky tense a bit.

"What do i say?"

"Let's start with a very short summary of your life up until this point. Major things you believe were important and we'll go by that."

"I-uh," he stuttered, unsure. "I was born in Brooklyn, 1918." He went on about his family in a few choppy sentences. Meeting Steve was next. A few moments in their lives, Steve being sick so much, Steve's mother Sarah dying, were all condensed to a small mouthful of words. And then he talked about going over seas and his period of imprisonment.

"We were there a couple of weeks. At some point I was singled out and kept seperate from the group." There was a slight pause. "I was told that that lasted 10 days before steve busted us all out." Ms. Marshall would every noe and then, scribble down a few notes but her eyes barely left bucky.

"It wasn't too long afterwards that I fell off the train." It was Steve's turn to flinch. "The soviets found me and a lot of stuff after that isn't very clear. I was tortured for a long time, given a new arm, molded into something they could use. I become compliant enough to do missions for them. Assassinations mostly, under a few certain powerful soviets but when i was The Soldier, I was compliant to anyone, if you knew the right words." Steve felt his stomach drop at those words. "Eventually I was given back to hydra from the KGB. Whenever I remembered too much or questioned orders, I was wiped." Somehow bucky managed to get through most of this without too much inflection, like he was simply reading from a page but there were certain things that brought in hesitation or breaks. Apparently being wiped was one of them. He went on though, attempted to go back to his nonchalant tone. 

"I still remember most of what happened. At least, I think I do. There are some fuzzy bits and a lot that kinda overlap each other... I was in a mission when I came across Steve. And seeing him broke through something and after working up the courage to come back, here I am." There was a silence, short but booming after what had been said. Ms. Marshall looked at Bucky, not with pity but with her tired, warm smile.

"I think thats enough for today." She stated, finally, putting her little notepad away. "Let me just finish with saying something. You have survived something, Bucky, that frankly most people would not and that none, that I've heard of, have. You are strong. You wouldn't be sitting in front of me if you weren't, dont forget that."

"The thing with therapy is that you have to be willing to help me help you. There are gonna be things you don't want to talk about, things that scare you. We won't rush into all that but you must be willing to try." Bucky nodded and she nodded back. Steve jumped up from where hed been sitting across the room.

"So you can help him."

"I'll do my best Mr. Rogers. I cant guarantee too much. Trauma is difficult to deal with, especially something so extensive but," she gave Bucky another smile, "I think I'll be able to do some good."  Steve and Bucky glanced at each other and Steve nodded.

"Good enough for me."

"Now I'll have Bruce give you all my info so if you need to contact me in between visits, you can do so."

"Um," Bucky spoke up, still seated on the couch, "Can you recommend anything for night terrors or when im... Not really myself?"

"Well the easiest thing at this moment is to eliminate anything that you know could trigger an episode, whether it's words or objects. And I think Mr. Rogers is more then capable of being able to bring you back to yourself."

"But what if I hurt him?"

"You could hurt a lot of people, Steve's much more resistent then most people. Besides he's the strongest tie you have to your past and as far as we know, one of the only thing that can break through to you. You may not like it but he's gonna be a major factor in your rehabilitation and to do that he might be put in a bit of danger." She left without another word and Bucky continued to sit on the couch, thinking over Ms. Marshalls words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If i have any errors, im sorry. I kinda rushed through posting this and im typing it on my crappy android. Like and comment!  
> -blake17


End file.
